November 2006

A bright idea? No, not even a dull gray idea. Comments, phone calls, emails, faxes and encouragements continue to pour in. The needed clarification: Doctor Flowers is not, repeat, NOT a candidate for President in 2008. "If drafted I will not accept; if nominated I will not run; and, if elected I will not serve." There are no PAC's, no exploratory committees, no preliminary fund raising activities, no early endorsements, no voting base for the Fantasy Party, no slogans, and no gratuitous promises to special interests. So, let's stop the momentum right now, before it grows out of control, and flush the idea, unceremoniously.

I'm thankful for the beautiful morning walk.I'm thankful for leaves that drift upon the lake.I'm thankful for minnows that hide in the shallows.I'm thankful for being trusted so close.I'm thankful for the circular polarizing filter.I'm thankful for my first blue heron shot.

There is a let down maybe even a crash of sorts. After a month-long autumn binge from the forests of West Virginia south to Georgia I'm experiencing tint withdrawal. The color jones; it's messin' with my mojo. Even the faithful bighearted sugar maple, outside my bedroom window, let go its reds and oranges and fell in behind the season's call. So here's Gustav Klimt - turn of the century symbolist, art nouveau and Vienna secessionist movement type hyper reacting against the strictures of academic conventions in his day. He's more recognized for decorative portraits of ladies from high society. I prefer Lebensbaum his tree of life with the dreamy afterglow of autumn to warm my color woes against the chilly winds to come.

It's a challenge, more so than I originally expected, to create new postings every other day - and keep them fresh. By fresh I'm thinking crispy Safeway iceberg lettuce straight from the chiller. I spend my morning walks in the Park stalking elusive inspiration, stretching my imagination to its tensile limits, reaching into the butterscotch for content - for any idea, for the hook. This morning, nothing. I'm totin' an empty quivver. Hollow sounding footsteps. More or less fiddling mindlessly with the camera dials…. When to my delight along the path toward me trots this fluffy little red fox. Casually distracted (like he should be on a walk in the Park) blissfully unaware of my presence. Our eyes meet; we size each other. Pause. …snap! Deliverance.